


Nobody's Child

by Kizmet



Category: Superman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizmet/pseuds/Kizmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superboy is deaged. While Young Justice looks for a cure Batman sticks Clark Kent with babysitting duties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Munchkin

**Author's Note:**

> In answer to YJ_Anons_Meme prompt: Big bad turns Superboy into a teeny tiny 5 year old. Batman makes Clark, not Superman because Batman is awesome and wants Clark to spend time with his clone/son with-out Superman looming over their heads, babysit while he and Young Justice track down said Big Bad to try and fix it.
> 
> Cue awkwardness and cute!teeny-tiny-5-year-old!Superboy.
> 
> Bonus points if somehow Superboy confesses to Clark about how he thinks Superman hates him and Clark is all I can't resist the adorableness that is TeenyTiny!SB and hugs the kid and realizes what a jerk he's been.
> 
> My version of The Daily Bugle staff mostly comes from "The New Adventures of Lois and Clark"

A man in loud plaid jacket with a tiny boy in a superman tee-shirt balanced on his hip stepped out of the elevator at the Daily Planet and casually scanned the bullpen. His gaze shifted to a leer as it landed on gossip columnist, Cat Grant. Cat eyed him distastefully as he made his way over to her desk.

"Hey doll, point me toward Kent's desk would ya?" he asked talking around a matchstick he was chewing on with the ease of long practice.

"Clark Kent?" Cat asked dubiously.

"That's the one," Matches confirmed. "Got something for him."

"He and Lane are at a press conference, he's not here," Cat said.

"I'm not blind doll. Just point me toward his desk and I'll be outta your hair," Matches said. "Can't be hanging around here all day, got urgent business ya understand?"

"I'm sure you could leave... whatever it is with security downstairs," Cat suggested. "In fact I'm sort of wondering how you made it past security in the first place?"

Matches just grinned at that. "Well doll, ya look trustworthy enough. Ya mind passin' 'im on for me?"

Practically before Cat knew what was happening the little boy was unloaded into her arms and his odd companion was headed back toward the elevators.

"Hey!" Cat protested. She held the boy as far away from her as possible, just in case the child was a carrier for dirt, snot or anything else that didn't mix well with designer clothes. "You can't just walk in here and hand over a kid!"

Cat's complaints didn't have an impact but a small, unhappy sound from the child stopped him cold. Matches took the boy back from a relieved Cat and sat him on a nearby desk then crouched down so that he and the boy were on eye-level. "Now kiddo, we talked 'bout this. I gotta go straighten out the situation, get things back to normal for ya." As he spoke he absently straighten the boy's clothes and ruffled his hair. "You're gonna stay with Kent. He's a good guy, knows Superman even. He'll keep an eye on ya 'til things get fixed up. 'Member ya said ya were okay with it."

The boy sniffled. "Don't like her," he pointed at Cat.

"Feeling's mutual," Cat muttered.

Matches scratched his head absently. "Eh, that is a problem. I was hopin' Kent'd be here." He looked around the room again. "Ya see anyone ya do like?"

The little boy looked around as well with huge sapphire-blue eyes. "He's got spots, like Wally," the boy declared as he pointed at Jimmy Olsen.

Matches nodded, he scooped the little boy up again, walked over to Jimmy's desk and dropped the boy in the red-head's lap. "That's for Kent," he informed the startled photographer. He fished Jimmy's press-pass out of his pocket. "See that the kid gets to him in one piece or things might get a bit dicey for ya... Olsen is it? Later."

"Bye-bye," the boy replied a bit mournfully. Jimmy could only blink in shock at the five-year-old perched on his knees.

* * *

"And there's another one of Superman catching Ms. Lane," Jimmy said.

"She falls lots," the little boy commented.

Jimmy ruffled his hair, "Don't you know it. Now don't tell anyone I said this, but I think she might just do it on purpose. Oh Ms. Lane was always the first one to go rushing in but before Superman she didn't fall off of everything in sight."

"Now here's one of our last office party. That's CK in the background."

"What the Sam Hill is this!" Perry White shouted. "Am I running a newspaper or a day care!"

Jimmy cringed. The little boy sitting on Jimmy's lap glared up at Perry. "Mine! My friend! Don't scare him," he ordered.

"Well, er." Perry rubbed the back of his neck and stared at Jimmy's fierce, little protector. "He's not really scared of me, kid. I just yell, it's what I do."

"He's not mine, mine!" Jimmy was babbling. "I'm just watching him for CK."

"He's Kent's?" Perry's eyebrow spoke volumes about the likely-hood of Clark Kent having a kid appear out of nowhere.

"I'm mine," the scowling child contributed.

"Well, I don't think he's really Clark's, as in Clark's kid. This guy with a Jersy accent and a loud jacket brought him and said to give him to CK. Maybe he has something to do with a story?"

Perry studied the boy dubiously. "If we were talking about Lane? Maybe. But Kent? Hell, half the reason I hired him was to keep Lane from breaking too many laws chasing her story."

"We don't know kidnapping was involved," Jimmy protested.

"We don't know who the brat belongs to either," Perry said.

"I don't belong to no one!" the kid snapped.

Perry crouched down so he was on eye-level with the boy. "Let's get some formalities out of the way. I'm Perry White, I run this mad-house. Who are you?"

The boy made a zipping gesture. "Not supposed to tell," he declared.

"It's a secret?" Jimmy asked, widening his eyes comically. "Well, we've got to call you something." He glanced down at the emblem on the boy's shirt. "How about SB, for Superboy?"

The little boy's jaw dropped, he stared up at Jimmy in awe. "How'd you know? I didn't tell!"

Jimmy grinned, "I'm good like that. But if that's a your secret identity you'll have to tell me another name to call you."

"SB's okay," the boy said with an unhappy sigh.

"Well, I guess he can stay 'til Kent gets back," Perry decided. "But if Kent doesn't know where he belongs we're calling child services."

"I told you! I belong to me!" SB exclaimed stubbornly.

"And Olsen? Take him in my office and shut the door," Perry continued. "God knows what kind of language a kid like that'd pick-up around here."

* * *

Clark returned from the press conference to find the whole staff of the Daily Planet staring at him as soon as he walked into the room.

"Whatever you did, Smallville, I'm impressed," Lois declared.

Clark adjusted his glasses nervously. "But I didn't-"

"Kent!" Perry shouted. "There's a little something in my office that, by god, you'd better be able to explain!"

"Sir?" Clark asked.

"Just go!" Perry shouted.

With a feeling of impending doom Clark headed for Perry's office. Lois, Cat and Perry trailed after him, the rest of the room restrained themselves to goose-necking.

Clark opened the door. Perched in Perry's chair, feet dangling well off the floor, was a tiny blue-eyed boy with dark hair and a S-Shield tee-shirt. Jimmy, having run out of Superman pictures and stories, was looking around the room for inspiration with a faint look of desperation in his eyes.

Clark recognized the boy instantly. The resemblance to his own baby pictures was too strong for coincidence. Age-change aside the boy could only be his clone. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 'How many times have I told Bruce I'm not his father. Then, without so much as a by-your-leave he dumps this on me. At work, at Clark Kent's work place! Practically in costume! And he's my clone! There's no way to deny the resemblance! Can't imagine what he'd do to anyone who screwed with his identity like this.'

"Wouldn't wear anything without that?" Clark asked unhappily, with a nod to the S-Shield.

The little boy nodded his head adamantly.

"You do know him. Thank god," Perry said.

"He's my cousin's," Clark fabricated.

"The obnoxious guy with the match-stick fixation is your cousin?" Cat asked with an expression of disgust.

Clark winced, "Friend of her husband's," he explained, trying to distance himself from that particular persona of Batman's. He wondered what Cat would think if she ever learned she'd most likely just blown off Bruce Wayne.

The little boy hopped off Perry's chair and tugged on Clark's pant leg then presented him with a letter. Clark held the letter up near his face to read, the better to unobtrusively thwart Lois' efforts at reading over his shoulder. He needn't have bothered. Batman had written it, there was nothing incriminating for the casual observer to find. It said: "Something important came up. Can't bring the kid. Watch him 'til I get back. ~Matches P.S. Take a closer look." Clark slid his glasses down his nose and scanned the paper with his X-Ray vision. "Taking YJ to find de-aging cure. SB's power and memories intact. Emotional age is consistent with physical appearance. Due to deprivation, touch/taste impulses on par with a two-year-old's."

As Clark puzzled over that warning, Jimmy suddenly lunged for Superboy. Clark glanced up to see Perry's pencil sharpener giving off smoke. Superboy was sucking on his finger while Jimmy and Perry panicked.

"He just stuck it in! I couldn't stop him!" Jimmy exclaimed. "That guy's gonna kill me!" He peered into the pencil sharpener. "I don't see any blood," he sounded relieved and confused.

Perry was tugging futilely on Superboy's arm, trying to get a look at the boy's hand. "Strong little tyke," he grunted. "Maybe it broke before it hurt him?"

"Mean!" Superboy declared without taking his fingers out of his mouth. He glared at the pencil sharpener. "It bit me!"

Clark stared at the boy with dismay.


	2. Child Minder

"So, Smallville, you've got a cousin in Metropolis that you never mentioned," Lois quarried pointedly.

Clark looked at her like a mouse looks at a cat. "We aren't close."

"But she left her kid with you?"

"She didn't. I think this might have been a bit of a last ditch thing," Clark protested.

"Well, the kid's a cutie. Amazing eyes," Lois paused. "You know there is one and only one person I have ever seen with eyes like that."

Clark nervously adjusted his glasses. The main purpose of the thick, lead-glass horn-rims was that they dulled down the color of his eyes to a human shade of blue. Well, that and the lead impregnated glass had helped him learn to focus his eyes on the surface of things back when X-Ray vision had been new and a little bit unsettling.

"Great Caesar's Ghost!" Perry shouted as Superboy let out a frightened squawk. Clark spun around to see the little boy in mid-fall. The filing cabinet he'd apparently been climbing was toppling as well. The boy was tiny and afraid. The cabinet was a heavy metal thing, all sharp edges and easily four times the boy's weight. Before Clark could fully form the thought Superboy was in his arms. The filing cabinet crashed down on the spot where the boy would have been with a loud crash.

"Good reflexes Smallville," Lois said, she sounded a bit shaken.

"Adrenalin," Clark said as small arms twined tightly around his neck. He rubbed Superboy's back comfortingly and tried to remind himself that Superboy's powers would have protected him. The edge of one of the cabinet's drawers had scored a long gash in the tile floor on impact. 'Probably would have protected him. Maybe. I wasn't nearly so invulnerable when I was that little.' Clark gulped and held the child a bit more tightly.

"Looked soft. I just wanted to touch," Superboy whimpered, his face buried in the crook of Clark's neck. In among the debris surrounding the filing cabinet Clark spotted a fuzzy, stuffed puppy.

"Kent, take a personal day," Perry ordered.

Clark nodded as he continued soothing the little boy in his arms.

* * *

By the time they reached a nearby park, Superboy was over his fright. He squirmed in Clark's arms until Clark set him down. Still Clark kept a tight hold on Superboy's hand. After the pencil sharpener and filing cabinet incidents he'd learned about keeping a close eye on small, curious children.

Walking along side Clark, Superboy took three steps and a hop for every two steps Clark took. Clark remembered walking the fields with his father when he'd been small and doing the same thing to make up for his father's longer legs.

At the playground Superboy found the slides and swings of little interest but he watched the other children with rapt fascination. "You'd better not," Clark said sadly, getting a taste of what it must have been like for his parents when they'd had to tell him he couldn't play with other children because they were too delicate and he'd been too young to be trusted to control his strength.

Suddenly Clark had a thought. He scooped up Superboy and hurried toward one of the more isolated areas in the park. Once they were alone he grinned at Superboy then put two fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply.

Superboy covered his ears and gave Clark a dirty look. But several moments later his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in utter amazement as a white dog in a red cape flew down to land beside them. "Doggy!" he exclaimed, then noticed the emblem on the dog's collar and cape. "Superdoggy!"

"His name's Krypto," Clark said as he knelt and held Superboy's hand out for Krypto to sniff. Krypto nosed at Superboy's fingers then looked at Clark, his expression one of canine bewilderment. Clark smiled and scratched Krypto's ears. "I know, it's a little strange," he told the dog. "This is Superboy. Wanna shake?"

Krypto obediently held out a paw. "Go ahead," Clark told Superboy. Superboy hesitated then took Krypto's paw and shook it carefully. Krypto gave a friendly yelp and licked Superboy's face thoroughly. The little boy giggled gleefully. "Superdoggy likes me?" he asked Clark wonderingly.

"Yeah, he likes you," Clark confirmed. He stepped back, releasing Superboy from the circle of his arms.

Superboy lunged forward and hugged Krypto enthusiastically. "I like you too, doggy!" he declared. "I like you lots!"

"He likes to play fetch," Clark suggested as he offered Superboy a decent sized stick. Superboy hucked the stick out of sight. Krypto flew after it, several minutes later he returned with a small tree. Clark groaned while Superboy petted Krypto and lavished praise on him.

Superboy and Krypto played fetch until Clark decided the city's trees had suffered enough. He collected both of his charges and headed home. Normally he didn't let Krypto stay in the city, his apartment would have been cramped for a regular dog of Krypto's size, let alone one with superpowers, but one night wouldn't hurt. Besides Krypto and Superboy seemed to keep each other out of trouble fairly well.

Back at his apartment Clark found an overnight bag waiting by the door. "It shouldn't surprise me when Bats thinks of everything anymore," he said to himself. Clark showed Superboy how to use Krypto's curry comb and left the boy to win the dog's undying devotion while he fixed dinner for all three of them.

Clark was delighted to find some of his mother's apple pie in his refrigerator. After some consideration of the rest of his pantry's contents he decided on spaghetti. It was messy but should go over well with a small child.

Once Clark had everything on the table he went to collect Superboy. He found the boy in a serious conversation with Krypto. "You like me and I like you," the little boy declared. He pointed to the S-Shield on his shirt. "And we're both Supers see? So how about I belong to you, okay?"

Krypto licked the little boy. Superboy smiled and hugged him. "I knew you'd like it!" He declared. "And you could teach me how to fly. Maybe Superman would like me if I could fly."

Clark winced at the conversation he'd overheard. After a day in the boy's company it was getting hard to remember that Superboy wasn't really a child, but a weapon constructed by an unsavory organization with an unknown agenda. However Superboy had come into existence, he acted like a perfectly normal little boy. 'Perfectly normal little boy with powers like mine,' Clark amended.

"You hungry?" Clark asked. "I made spaghetti."

"What's s-s-ghetti?" Superboy asked trying to twist his mouth around the unfamiliar word.

"Try it, you'll find out," Clark offered pulling out a chair for Superboy. Superboy hopped up on the chair then sat down. His eyes were almost level with the surface of the table. "That's not going to work so well," Clark said. He glanced around his apartment then collected a telephone book and his dictionary. Then after a moment's consideration he grabbed a couple of towels from the linen closet as well. Clark picked up Superboy. He piled the phonebook and dictionary on the seat of the chair. He spread one towel protectively over the dictionary. Then he seated Superboy on top of the books and wrapped the second towel around him.

"It's a backwards cape," Superboy said looking slightly puzzled over the idea of wearing a cape in front of him.

Clark smiled, nodded in agreement and served the spaghetti. After a tentative first bite Superboy dug in with gusto. Clark watched in amazement as tomato sauce splattered across his tiny kitchen. Krypto cheerfully licked up the drops that landed near him. The towel had been a brilliant idea, but the knot he'd tied didn't survive Superboy's energetic eating style. By the second helping the boy was sporting patches of tomato sauce from the top of his head down to his knees. "Well, bath time later," Clark thought to himself with more amusement than anything else.

"There's apple pie for dessert," Clark said.

"M'Gann makes cookies for dessert," Superboy told him. "Mostly they come out black, but we eat 'em anyways 'cause it makes her happy."

"That's very nice of you," Clark said.

"M'Gann's nice," Superboy declared. "I got mad at her for looking in my head and she doesn't anymore! 'Cept when Kaldur says, so we can talk on missions. Everybody else went on a mission, but Batman said I couldn't 'cause the magic lady made me little. It's not fair! But I got to meet Krypto, and you, so it's okay, I guess. Anyways, M'Gann always asks before she goes in my head now and it doesn't feel icky like the Gegnomes anymore."

"That's good," Clark said as he served the pie. "I'm glad it doesn't feel bad."

"The Gegnomes weren't all bad," Superboy continued. "But Cadmus made them do bad stuff and they made my head feel icky, like my brains were squished. Then Dubilex told them I got to chose who I belonged to and I said I wanted to be mine, then my head didn't feel all squished and icky anymore. That's why I got mad when M'Gann went in my head, I thought she was going to make it squished again. I yelled at her. It made her feel bad and I was sorry, but I still didn't want her squishing me. And she doesn't. I like not belonging to Cadmus. People stop when you say stuff feels bad."

"What 'stuff' wouldn't people stop at Cadmus?" Clark asked quietly with a bad feeling in his gut.

"Everything!" Superboy exclaimed. "Hurting green rock tests and calling me 'it' and the Gegnomes squishing all my thinks! I really, really like Kaldur and Robin and Wally. They helped me get away from Cadmus even after the Gegnomes made me be bad and hurt them. Kaldur's the best, he has a nice voice and him talking helped me push the Gegnomes out the first time."

Clark closed his eyes briefly and rested a hand on the little boy's shoulder, hating the thought that he'd been mistreated at Cadmus. 'He didn't deserve to be treated like that, like he was just a thing.'

Superboy glanced at the empty plate which had previously held Martha Kent's apple pie. Then he picked it up and licked away the last few crumbs and remnants of filling. "I'll tell my mom you enjoyed the pie," Clark said. He reached out and rubbed a spot of apple-filling off of the little boy's forehead.

"Yummy!" Superboy agreed.

"Now how about we get the rest of dinner off you... Bath time," Clark concluded.

"Kaldur's teaching me to swim," Superboy volunteered.

"The bath tub's not quite that big," Clark warned as he picked up Superboy and carried him into the bathroom, the better to avoid him spreading the mess. Clark started the water running, then stripped off Superboy's tomato-stained outfit and dumped it in the sink.

"Superdoggy! Bath with me!" Superboy called as Clark put him in the water.

"Krypto, no!" Clark commanded. "Sit! Stay!" He made a futile grab as the canine slipped around him and bounded into the tub, sending a cascade of water showering over the whole bathroom. "Why do you chose now to like baths?" Clark took off his glasses, went to dry them on his shirt then sighed at the futility of using anything in the bathroom to remove water, and put them back on, water-spots and all.

Superboy and Krypto splashed about, happily relocating bath-water from the tub to the bathroom floor. "Now if this were only the kitchen," Clark commented. "Then we'd be making some progress."

The doorbell squealed. Clark didn't bother with X-Ray vision, Lois was the only one who could wring that tortured noise out of his doorbell. He caught Krypto's jaw in his hand, "Go home!" he ordered firmly.

Krypto whined unenthusiastically, he was having fun.

"Home. now," Clark reiterated.

Krypto levitated out of the tub and shook off, drenching Clark for a second time in the process. Then he squeezed through the small bathroom window and flew off toward the Kent Farm.

With the most inexplicable bit of evidence gone, Clark answered the door.

"Smallville, thought I'd see how you and the kid were getting on?" Lois looked amused as she took in Clark's sopping wet condition.

"Just the person I wanted to see." Clark found he didn't have to put much effort into sounding out of his depth. "Do you want to help with the five-year-old in the tub? Or the spaghetti sauce on the kitchen ceiling?"

Lois considered retreat then her resolve firmed. "Never let it be said that a little dirt scared Lois Lane away from a story." She took note of the shear volume of water dripping off Clark. "I'll take the kitchen," she decided.

'Well, it was worth a shot,' Clark thought as he stepped back to allow Lois in.

"And Smallville?" Lois added as she headed for the kitchen. "One hint: When bathing a small child, the object is to get the water on them."

"You could always demonstrate," Clark suggested.

"The terms of the deal have been set," Lois declared. "Go take care of the kid, before your downstairs neighbor starts complaining about drips."

"By the way, thanks," Clark called over his shoulder as he headed back to the bathroom. He found Superboy still splashing in the, alarmingly little, water left in the tub.

"How about we try a little soap," Clark suggested.

Superboy scowled darkly at that suggestion.

Fifteen minutes later Lois appeared in the doorway with a towel from the hall closet. "You weren't kidding," she said. "There is spaghetti sauce on the ceiling. It's going to take someone taller than me to deal with that, but I did get the floor, the walls and the table. Now give the kid to me, you're obviously in no state to get him dry."

"But... soap," Clark protested weakly.

"Eh, he looks clean enough to me," Lois judged.

Superboy beamed at her winningly.

"I'll get the kid dried off and into pajamas. The overnight bag's his stuff I take it?"

Clark nodded.

"And I'll keep an eye on him while you get showered..." Lois smirked. "Or at least rinsed off. I'm not sure which of you is ahead on water, but there's definitely more soap on you than on him."

"I win!" Superboy cheered.

"Remember, he's five," Clark said as he surrendered Superboy. "Don't interrogate him."

Lois wrapped the little boy in the towel, "Don't worry, I'll be nice."


	3. Weapon

"Wow, you really must like Superman a lot," Lois commented as she picked through the options in the overnight bag. The towel-wrapped, little boy balanced on her hip nodded but not as enthusiastically as Lois had anticipated. She made a note to come back to that point after she'd clarified matters surrounding family Clark wanted to hide and the disreputable company the kid had arrived with.

She set Superboy on the bed and handed him several items of clothing.

"So, you having fun? Staying here with Clark?" Lois asked and got a more energetic nod once she'd helped him sort out the arms of his Superman pajamas.

"What do I call you anyway? I mean, I can't keep calling you kid, can I?"

Superboy nodded.

"Yes I can call you kid. Or no I can't?" Lois rephrased.

Superboy nodded and smiled, he liked her 'kid', it sounded like his friends' 'Supey'.

"I heard you wouldn't tell Jimmy or Perry your name but I was sure you'd tell me," Lois gave him a sad look. She wanted to hear the kid's answer without Clark in the room.

She got a less certain head shake.

"Well, why ever not?" she asked.

"Not supposed to talk to you," Superboy blurted out then clapped both hands over his mouth.

"But you talked to Jimmy and Perry," Lois pointed out. "It's not like we're strangers, you know we know Clark and he's like your uncle right?"

Superboy nodded then shook his head. His hands remained firmly clasped over his mouth.

"You can talk to Jimmy and Perry?" Lois repeated and got a nod. "But you can't talk to me." Another nod. "But Clark is your uncle right?" A shake. "Okay, what'd Clark say? Your mom is his cousin. So technically he's your second cousin? Or is he your cousin once removed? I can never keep those straight." Superboy just stared at her in confusion. "Forget it." Lois said as she picked Superboy up and relocated them to the living room, leaving Clark with access to his dresser once his shower was finished. "Back to the important thing: Did Clark tell you not to talk to me?"

Superboy shook his head.

"But someone, specifically, told you not to talk to me?"

A nod.

"Well, that's just mean," Lois pouted theatrically. Superboy looked worried at the suggestion he was being mean to Lois.

"Not you," Lois tweaked his nose. "Whoever told you not to talk to me. If I knew who that was, I'd give them a piece of my mind."

Superboy stared at her with shock and disbelief written boldly across his face.

Despite the no-talking he seemed comfortable enough with being held. 'Comfortable?' Lois thought as she sat on the couch and settled him in her lap. 'The kid soaks in affection like a dry sponge!'

"You think I wouldn't? So this person is scary?"

Superboy wrinkled his nose, considering the question carefully.

"Are you scared of them?"

A quick definite head shake.

"But you think I'd be scared?"

An equally firm nod.

"Well, I'll have you know, I'm not scared of giving anyone a piece of my mind," Lois assured him. "Just ask Clark."

"Even Batman?" popped out before Superboy could stop it.

"Batman told you not to talk to me?" Lois asked skeptically.

Superboy nodded, his sapphire blue eyes serious and sincere, his hands back over his mouth.

When Clark emerged from his bedroom he found Superboy curled up in Lois' lap, fast asleep. "He fell asleep before I could get anything conclusive out of him," Lois said keeping her voice low.

Clark relaxed. He'd been worried about what Lois might have derived from the one-sided conversation he'd overheard.

"Ah-ha!"

"What?" Clark asked.

"You wouldn't look so relieved if you weren't covering something up," Lois reasoned. "You don't have a cousin in Metropolis do you?"

"Lois, not everything is part of some big cover-up," Clark protested.

"He told me Batman told him not to talk to me," Lois said.

"The things kids imagine," Clark said with a weak grin.

Lois gave him a disgusted look. "The eyes really do give it away, they're incredibly distinctive and striking... you barely notice the rest of his face, either of them. That and the way Perry couldn't budge the kid's arm. And he knows Batman! How'd Superboy get de-aged? Can't be Superman because we, well I, saw him at the press conference and the kid was already at the Planet by then. But tell me this: Why are you babysitting for the JLA?

Clark took a deep breath and considered the situation. Lois had pieced together that the boy was Superboy, not Clark Kent's cousin. It wasn't an utter disaster, yet. "Lois, this can't show up in the paper," Clark said seriously. "He's pretty helpless right now and it'd be like painting a target on him."

Lois draped a protective arm over the sleeping child in her lap and glared at Clark. "I'm not an idiot," she hissed. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt him, or Superman. I still don't like being kept in the dark. How'd he end up like this."

"I honestly don't know that much more than you do," Clark said. "At the moment he's five. Getting him back to normal is being worked on. I'm to watch him until further notice."

"Why you?" Lois demanded.

"Did you notice a point where I had the option of saying no?" Clark asked with frustration. Then he sighed. "He's actually a pretty normal kid, not at all what I expected from a living weapon."

Very carefully Lois shifted Superboy off her lap, she petted his hair for a moment to be certain he'd stay asleep. "Kent. Hallway. Now," she said in a sharp whisper.

Clark didn't see that he had any option besides following as Lois marched out of his apartment. As soon as the door closed behind them Lois spun around, "What the hell is wrong with you?" she accused, going up on her toes, the better to get in his face. "Where do you get off calling that kid a weapon?"

"Lois, he's a clone of Superman. He's someone's sick notion of how they could get that sort of power under their thumb. He is a weapon. He even says it himself."

"He's a brainwashed kid! What's your excuse?" Lois demanded, that she hadn't raised her voice didn't disguise her anger in the slightest. "I've got half a mind to take the kid with me when I leave, but Superman and the Justice League must have had some reason for leaving him with you!"

"He's not a real child," Clark protested.

"The hell he isn't! Look around you Kent!" Lois' eyes narrowed dangerously. "We share this world with aliens, androids with souls and women made out of clay. It's gotten so I barely use the word 'human' when I write because there are so many people running around who aren't, technically, human. So the kid's a test tube baby? So what? That's practically normal."

"A clone."

"A test tube baby who's short a genetic donor," Lois threw up her hands in exasperation. "I really don't get you right now Kent. You're the last person I'd expect this sort of crap from. Look at it this way: The kid has the same genetic potential as Superman. If he doesn't turn out okay, it's all on whoever raised him."

"That's just it," Clark argued. "He wasn't raised. He was programmed. He's not supposed to exist. He's not natural."

"I've interviewed Lex Luthor, I've seen what soulless looks like and it has nothing to do with how a person is born. That little kid? He's sweet. The teenager who's been showing up and trying to help out for the last few months? His heart's in the right place. Sure he's got his rough edges, that's part and parcel with being a teenager. He's not the problem. People calling him a weapon? That's a problem, 'cause if there's enough of that going around, it'd be pretty normal for a teenager to live down to people's expectations. My little sister and her race to self-destruction are living proof of that concept."

"Seriously Clark. Don't call that kid a weapon. Don't let him call himself one either. Letting him think like that about himself? That's horrible."

* * *

For a long time after Lois left Clark sat on the floor in front of the couch watching Superboy sleep. Without Lois cuddling him Superboy had curled up around a couch cushion and was sucking his thumb. Clark could argue with Bruce about how he wasn't the boy's father; genetics aside he'd had nothing to do with Superboy coming into existence. It was harder to answer Lois' accusation that he was hurting the boy by thinking of him as a weapon, even it were true.

When Superboy's eyes started to move behind his closed eyelids Clark found himself wondering 'Who programs a weapon to dream?' Superboy's dreams quickly turned unpleasant. He whimpered and pressed himself into the corner of the couch, making himself as small as possible.

Clark reached out and rubbed the little boy's back comfortingly. The next thing he knew he had a lap-full of inconsolably sobbing child. "It's okay. It's just a bad dream. You're okay," Clark repeated as he continued rubbing Superboy's back.

Gradually the little boy calmed down enough for Clark to make out words. "Not a bad thing. Not a bad thing." Superboy kept repeating, kept pleading as he burrowed further into Clark's arms. 'Who teaches a weapon to want comfort after a nightmare?' Clark sighed as Superboy cried himself back to sleep, clinging to Clark with a desperate strength that would have been painful if Clark had been human.

Even asleep Superboy showed no sign of loosening his grip. After some time Clark pulled a blanket over both of them and went to sleep on the couch with Superboy cradled in his arms.

The next morning Clark was relieved when Superboy woke-up happy, his nightmares apparently forgotten.

The previous day's experience with feeding a small child fresh in mind, Clark opted to wait until after breakfast to dress Superboy in new clothes. He thought about calling his ma for advice on food that was child-safe. But given the effort he'd put into not discussing Superboy with his parents... But if Lois was right, and he was starting to think she probably was. If Superboy were a brainwashed child and not just a weapon that was going to blow up in their faces at any moment... Still he needed to think about how he was going to tell his parents about Superboy. Even if the boy wasn't to blame, even if he was a real person, he was still dangerous.

After careful consideration, without calling home, Clark settled on scrambled eggs as a relatively disaster proof food. He didn't consider the challenges of cooking without Krypto present to keep Superboy occupied. Clark got eggs out of the refrigerator, then he moved Superboy so that he could close the door. He took a frying pan out of the cupboard, then removed Superboy from a precarious perch on the top-shelf of his pantry. As Clark turned on the range burner he caught sight of Superboy crouching down in preparation to leap just in time to brace himself for impact as forty pounds of small child propelled by super-human strength crashed into him. Superboy scrabbled for a hold for a few seconds then pulled himself up onto Clark's shoulders.

"You really shouldn't do that," Clark sighed. "Especially not to someone near a stove."

"Why not?" Superboy asked. "I like being high. You're the highest place."

"If I hadn't seen you jump you could have knocked both of us into the stove," Clark explained. He decided that explaining how anyone else would have been knocked over, and probably injured, even if they were prepared was opening too big a can of worms.

"'Kay, I won't jump on anybody. 'Cept bad guys, you're supposed to knock them down," Superboy negotiated. "Can I stay? Since I already jumped and you didn't get knocked down?"

Clark decided it was probably the safest place in the kitchen for Superboy to be. "You can stay," he agreed. "But only if you promise NOT to jump on anyone else."

"Okay," Superboy agreed.

From his perch Superboy watched Clark crack several eggs into the frying pan. "M'Gann broke eggs on my head once," he announced.

"Why would she do that?" Clark asked.

"'Cause I only got two hands," Superboy explained then drifted off on a tangent. "M'Gann can have as many arms as she wants. And sometimes Wally looks like he has lots of arms, but he doesn't, he just moves really fast. Kaldur has webs on his hands and Robin and Artemis have white lines and hard patches. My hands are boring."

"So M'Gann cracked eggs on your head?" Clark asked feeling confused.

"NO!" Superboy exclaimed. "M'Gann wasn't using hands at all, she was thinking things at me. But I couldn't catch them all, 'cause I don't have enough hands. And the eggs broke on my head, and the milk. M'Gann was going to clean me up, then she turned red. Why does M'Gann turn red a lot when she talks to me?"

"She turns red a lot?" Clark clarified.

"All the time, 'specially if we're standing close or stuff."

"Er, she probably likes you," Clark explained.

Superboy rolled his eyes, unimpressed with Clark's logic. "M'Gann likes the whole team. I'm the only one that makes her turn red."

"How about you ask me again when you're not five," Clark suggested.

Superboy leaned around so he could see Clark's face without relinquishing his spot on Clark's shoulders. "You'll still talk to me when I'm not little?" he asked intently.

"Well, er, why wouldn't I?" Clark temporized feeling very uncomfortable. Superman avoided the clone, but Clark Kent hadn't even met him prior to de-aging.

"Batman, Canary and Reddy like me, even when I'm big," Superboy said, then his voice dropped to an uncertain whisper. "But other grown-ups are weird around me," his voice got even smaller, "'cause Superman doesn't like me."

Then he perked up. "But when Ba-Matches took me to the Planet place yesterday all the grown-ups were nice, even the one that yells, but not the smelly lady."

Clark decided to focus on the safe topics. "Cat does wear a lot of perfume."

"Everyone was nice, they talked to me and don't always got other stuff to do when I wanna ask something. But that's since I got little. Will you really talk to me when I'm big?"

Clark hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. If Lois were right... "Yes, I'll still talk to you." he promised. Then changed the subject. "The eggs are ready, lets have breakfast."

Breakfast completed with minimal mess, Clark decided, thankfully, that another bath could be foregone. As he looked through Superboy's overnight bag his eyes widened at the realization that every single outfit had the S-shield printed prominently on it. "Did you help Batman pick out your clothes?" Clark asked.

Superboy nodded. "He picked dumb clothes. Then he wouldn't let me wear my shirt. Too big, he said it would fall off. But it's my shirt! With my mark! I wasn't gonna wear any of his dumb clothes. So we got new ones that were better."

Clark chuckled softly at the mental picture of Batman being out-stubborned by a five-year-old. "Why does it matter so much to you?" he asked. "Why do you always have to wear that?"

"It's mine!" Superboy declared vehemently. He grabbed the nearest shirt and clutched it to his chest. "Superman didn't take it away."

Clark frowned, that his not objecting to the kid wearing the S-Shield had meant so much seemed wrong somehow. "Why is it so important to you?"

"Superman didn't take it away. So I'm not all bad."

Clark picked Superboy up and sat him on the dresser so they were on eye-level. "What do you mean 'you're bad'?" he asked.

"Cadmus was bad. I used to belong to them. But I won't be their's no more! 'Cause they were bad!" Superboy declared fiercely. Then he looked down sadly. "Superman didn't want me. I must be a bad thing too."

"Not a bad thing." Clark heard the echos of the nightmare that had left Superboy sobbing broken-heartedly. "Seriously Clark. Don't call him a weapon. It's horrible." It was his fault, the nightmare was his fault. "I'm not a bad thing," that was what he'd been trying to say, pleading for someone to believe him. "Why do you always have to wear that?" Because it was all he had. "Superdoggy likes me?" "Can I belong to you?" Clinging to any scrape of acceptance. "The League will figure something out," I won't. "I'm definitely available," but not for you. "I'm not his father," no one was. Angry and hurting and just a kid. A real child and so hurt and it was his fault.

Clark picked up Superboy and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry. You're not bad. You're not bad at all. I- he- Superman..." Clark took a deep breath. This was his mistake to fix. He put Superboy back on the dresser then took off his glasses and set them aside. He waited silently for a few moment until he had Superboy's full attention.

"You are not bad." He repeated staring intently into sapphire blue eyes there were exactly the same shade as his own. "I just didn't know you back then." He unbuttoned his shirt enough to reveal his own S-shield. "You were a surprise and I didn't react very well. It wasn't because you were bad. It was just because I didn't know you then."

"S-superman?" the little boy asked nervously.

Clark nodded seriously.

"I'm not a bad thing?"

"No. You are not bad."

"You don't h-hate me?"

"No, absolutely not!" Clark stated firmly. He picked Superboy up again and held him close.

After a moment Superboy hugged him back. "Can I belong to you?" he whispered uncertainly.

"Yes. You're my family. We belong to each other okay?"

Superboy nodded and hugged Clark as hard as he could.


	4. Grandparents

"So, it's been more than a day and I'm still waiting to hear a 'scientific' explanation for why Superboy is currently a kindergartner," Artemis whispered as she took the seat near Kid Flash at the back of the bioship.

"Localized time reversal," Wally offered.

"Pfft!" Artemis snorted. "He remembers stuff that happened the day before yesterday. If Circe made time run backwards, which still sounds a lot like magic to me, until Superboy was five he wouldn't remember any of us. Face it, it was magic."

"It was not magic," Wally hissed with a glance toward the control center, to make sure M'Gann hadn't heard him. "Maybe it just physically reversed the aging process. And he thinks like a little kid because, memories or not, the physical and chemical structure of his brain are a little kid's," Wally supplied before Artemis could pick at that hole in his reasoning.

"Kid Flash, a good scientist doesn't deny evidence," Batman stated flatly. "Magic is annoying, denying that it exists is foolish."

"So there," Artemis gloated.

"As is pointlessly antagonizing your teammates before a mission." Batman wondered what he'd been thinking when he chose to go on a mission with a group of teenagers. Robin was more sensible and easier to work with than most adults but that was working with one teenager, his teenager. In groups there was always the issue of hormones and related stupidity.

"Are you certain it was wise to leave Superboy with him?" Kaldur asked quietly.

'Right, that was why: to ensure that there was no one Kent could try to pawn the boy off on this time.'

"It is good that you're concerned for your teammate, but trust me. As thoroughly as Superman has blinded himself to the sixteen-year-old's need for acceptance, he will not ignore a five-year-old's more concrete needs."

"And with any luck Superman won't be as good at ignoring what's right in front of his nose as KF is," Robin added and got a dark look for exposing Batman's underlying motivation and simultaneously poking at the embers of Wally and Artemis' latest snipe-fest.

"I hope it works," M'Gann said, thinking of the psychic backlash from Superboy's nightmares, which his teammates' acceptance just couldn't heal. "We're here."

"Remember, your job is to keep her from escaping. The most effective way of dealing with magic-users is to keep them off balance," Batman advised. "I'll do the questioning. Zatara can't risk reversing the spell without more knowledge of how it was cast."

* * *

The morning was going fairly well in Clark's opinion. It had taken an hour after revealing that he was Superman before Superboy had been willing to relinquish physical contact with him. But he'd turned on the TV and it hadn't seemed too strange, the way the kid clung to him.

It was okay now though. They'd gone back to the park and were playing catch. Clark had taken Superboy back to the isolated part of the park where the little boy didn't have to worry about hiding his abilities.

Clark tossed the ball well over Superboy's head then grinned when the little boy launched himself ten feet into the air, completely over-shooting the ball in his effort to catch it.

Both of them turned toward the distant sound of shouts followed by the crack of gun-fire. Clark tuned in his hearing to gather more information. Superboy leapt from tree limb to tree limb until he had a clear view of the city surrounding the park.

"Parasite! Surrender now!" Clark heard the police shouting.

Superboy practically tumbled out of the tree. "There's a bad guy! And he looks all weird! I can help!"

Clark choked. 'Take a five-year-old into a fight?' But at the same time he couldn't not go, the police couldn't handle Parasite alone. He couldn't just leave a five-year-old alone either.

"Lois!" Clark exclaimed. "You can stay with Lois."

"I can help!" Superboy insisted stubbornly.

"No, you can't," Clark stated. "Remember what Batman said about you being too little?"

"You're going to leave," Clark cringed as the little boy's eyes began filling with tears.

* * *

Lois jumped, spilling her coffee and dropping her book on the floor, when she heard someone knocking at her window. Living on the twelfth story of her apartment building, not many people had the ability to tap on her windows. Catching sight of a vivid red cape, Lois ran her hands through her hair, trying to put it into some sort of order and spent a second wishing that she'd put on make-up that morning. She hurried across the room and pushed the window sash up.

Then she noticed Superboy in the crook of Superman's arm. The little boy looked upset. Superman gave her a strained smile. "I took him for the morning but Parasite's causing trouble, I'm not certain where Kent's at, could you watch him?"

"I can help!" Superboy protested. "Don't leave me."

"You can't help, you're too little," Superman stated, Lois could see he was pressed for time, half his attention on whatever he was listening to across town. "I'll come right back. But you have to stay here. You have to PROMISE to stay here."

"I, I promise," Superboy said unhappily as Superman set him down just inside Lois' window. Then Superman was gone.

"Well kid, it looks like it's you and me," Lois said wryly. She shook her head getting a small taste of why Clark was acting so strangely; it was unsettling to have responsibility for a child fall on you out of the clear blue sky.

Superboy stared after Superman not saying anything. After a few minutes he sat on the floor, not moving an inch from the spot where Superman had set him down and hugged his knees unhappily.

Lois crouched down beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, he's fought Parasite before, it'll be okay." Superboy didn't look at her or respond at all. "Kid? Superboy!" Lois' voice rose worriedly. She tried to pick him up only to have Superboy grab the window sill, hanging on tightly enough to leave dents in the hardwood.

* * *

Later that morning Martha Kent was working in her garden when her son landed just outside of the neatly tilled rows with a tiny child in his arms.

"Jon!" Martha called as she dusted off her knees. "Company." she always found it awkward, knowing what to call her son when he was dressed up as Superman.

On a second glance Martha noticed that her son looked frazzled and worried. The child in his arms was hanging on to Clark as if it would take a crow-bar to pry him loose. Martha's eyes widened at the shocking familiarity of the ruffled dark hair. 'Crow-bar probably wouldn't do a bit of good,' she thought absently.

She traded a look with Jonathan as he left the barn, Krypto following at his heels.

"Ma, Pa, I want you to meet Superboy," Clark said. He looked down at the little boy burrowing into his shoulder. "Superboy, do you want to say 'hi' to your grandparents?" To Martha's ears Clark sounded desperate.

"Hi," Superboy said, talking mostly to Clark's shoulder.

"Hi sweetie," Martha said smiling warmly. She curbed the desire to hug the little boy. The way he was clinging to Clark it didn't look like he'd appreciate being taken by a stranger, even his grandma. "You look a bit smaller than when I saw you on TV."

"Magic."

"Wow, magic. Will you be staying this way long?" Clark caught a hopeful note in his mother's voice.

"Don't know," Superboy said.

"Batman was looking for a cure," Clark supplied. "Superboy, do you want to play fetch with Krypto for a little? I'm just going to change. I'm not going anywhere."

"Superdoggy?" Superboy asked letting go of Clark enough to look around. Krypto jumped up and braced his forepaws on Clark so that he could lick both of them hello. With only a little reluctance Superboy let Clark put him down.

Clark blurred inside and returned a moment later in his normal clothes. He glanced at Superboy and saw he was distracted by getting reacquainted with Krypto. He looked at his parents and said, "Help?"

"Son?" Jonathan asked.

"He was having nightmares, because I didn't know what to make of him," the explanation spilled quickly out of Clark in a low voice. "I thought it would fix everything if I told him I was Superman. But then I had to go. Parasite again. I left him with Lois. She said he curled up in a ball by the window the whole time I was gone. She couldn't get him to move at all. She's going to kill me the next time she sees me as Clark," he added as an aside. "He gets upset every time I set him down. I thought telling him would make it better, not worse."

Martha and Jonathan traded a look. "It sounds like he's acting like you did the first few months after we found you," Jonathan said. "You took to Martha and I right off but... Well, as near as we could figure, even if you weren't old enough to retain conscious memories of your birth parents, you knew they were gone."

"It took a long time before you trusted that Jon and I wouldn't vanish the moment we were out of your sight," Martha finished. "As for why he's acting like he doesn't trust you to come back... I would imagine you know the answer to that better than I do."

Clark wondered if the earth would oblige and open up and swallow him.

"The only cure is time, you need to prove to him that even if you do leave he can trust you to come back. You're lucky you changed your mind before he did. That little incident on the bridge was televised," Martha frowned. "The camera wasn't close enough to pick-up what was said, but I do know your body-language."

"You've been avoiding our calls," Jonathan remarked. "We don't even know were he came from. Although I do know enough about biology to wonder how he's possible?"

"Mad scientists, a clone," Clark explained shortly.

"Well, that explains why I haven't been able to pick out any trace of his mother in his features," Martha commented. "What's his name?"

"Er, Superboy," Clark admitted, he bit his lip and waited for it.

"Clark Jerome Kent! That is not a proper name!" Martha exclaimed. "You are not leaving this farm until he has a REAL name. I don't care if the sun is about to explode. You have had MONTHS and there is absolutely no excuse for him not having a name yet!"

"Yes, Ma."

* * *

Superboy scratched behind Krypto's ears, loving the way it made the dog wriggle with pleasure. He stole a quick glance back at the house and relaxed a bit at the sight of Clark sitting down beside Martha on the porch, a laptop shared between them. Clearly he wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you know what 'grandparents' are, Superdoggy?" he asked in a whisper. "Robin would say... he'd take it apart. 'Parents', but grand. More-than-parents? Superman-Clark is parents now, he even said family. But more-than-parents... I don't wanna be given away again! Not even to Lois or Canary. They're really nice. Lois is nice, even if Batman doesn't like her. But they're... they're not MY person. Canary took me because he didn't want me, but I now he said he does want me. I want him to want me."

Superboy gave Krypto a worried look then hugged the dog tightly. "I still love you," he assured the dog. "You're different. You're Superman's. Even if he gives me to you, well you're his so I'd still be his." he nodded, pleased with his logic.

Krypto tore off a tree limb and offered it to Superboy. "More fetch?" Superboy asked. Krypto kept hold of his end of the branch. "Superdoggy, I can't throw it with you holding on," Superboy informed him seriously.

Krypto whined around the branch and tugged. Superboy tugged back, getting the idea of the new game. For several moments they pulled back and forth, until the branch snapped in half under the strain. Superboy tumbled backward. To his surprise Jonathan was there to help him back up.

"Easy there," Jonathan said. "Thought I'd see if you wanted to help gather the eggs. Clark used to help me with that back when he was your size."

Superboy looked at him skeptically. "Superman was little?" he asked.

Jonathan nodded seriously. "I've got picture to prove it." He pulled out his wallet and showed Superboy a faded picture of Clark sitting on Jonathan's lap, helping to drive a tractor.

"That's you with Superman!" Superboy exclaimed. "Why's your hair yellow?"

Jonathan laughed. "And here I'm wondering why's it's grey now."

"Why?"

"It's something that happens when you get old," Jonathan explained. "It's been a long time since Clark was my little boy."

"Superman's yours?" Superboy asked.

Jonathan nodded. "That's what 'grandparents' means. I'm his pa, like he's yours."

"Pa? That's a father?" Superboy asked. "Wally calls his 'Dad'."

Jonathan nodded. "Father, Pa, dad, pop, all means the same thing. Grand in front means your parents' parents."

"Not more-than-parents? I though grandparent was that, maybe."

"I suppose you could think of it that way," Jonathan said.

"I didn't know, so I took it apart like Robin," Superboy exclaimed.

"That's smart," Jonathan said and Superboy beamed. "So how about those chickens? The eggs won't gather themselves."

"We got eggs from the grocery store," Superboy said. "Before I was little."

Jonathan grimaced. "A farmboy like Clark letting you think eggs come from the grocery store? I'm going to have to have words with that boy."

Superboy giggled, Jonathan sounded like Canary when they weren't serious in practice. When she pretended to be mad but actually liked to see them having fun.

"Come on then. It's high time you see where eggs really come from. Better show you the old milk cow too while I'm at it."

Superboy took Jonathan's offered hand. "Okay Moredad."

Jonathan chuckled softly, enjoying his new title.

* * *

Clark stared in dismay at the child trailing happily behind Jonathan with a tin full of eggs. Superboy's hair, skin and clothes were all a uniform shade of pale, dusty brown. He looked like he'd found a puddle of the finest dust and rolled in it.

"All yours, Son," Jonathan declared, clearly getting into the spirit of grandparenting.

"What happened to you?" Clark asked as he knelt in front of Superboy. He picked several clumps of straw out of the little boy's shirt-collar and made a futile effort at dusting him off.

"There was hay!" Superboy declared, his teeth gleaming brightly in contrast to his grimy skin. "In a stack! And I climbed it! And I jumped on it!"

"You can help me rebuilt the hay stack later," Jonathan added to Clark.

"You never let me jump on the hay stack," Clark remarked.

"Not after you were seven and could knock the whole thing down with one jump."

"Moredad says cows eat hay," Superboy informed Clark. "Cows are silly. Hay tastes bad. I'd rather eat cheeseburgers."

"So you met the cows?" Clark asked. "And the hay stack."

"And the chickens," Superboy continued excitedly. "The chickens don't like Superdoggy. So he had to stay outside while we visited their house. We got eggs! Chickens make eggs, and they sit on them and they peck you when you try to take them. It tickles!"

Martha accepted the tin of eggs from Superboy. "Well, being pecked does a bit more than tickle for most of us," she said. "Thank you for getting the eggs for me."

Superboy smiled shyly, unused to being thanked.

Martha grinned at her very dirty grandson. "It's such a nice evening. What do you say to having dinner out here on the porch?"

"And pie?" Superboy asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I see you inherited your father's sweet-tooth," Martha said. "Yes, I always keep a pie in the freezer in case Clark drops by."

Superboy glowed at the easy way in which she called Superman his father. Or maybe it was Clark? Clark was the one who played with him and held him, Superman was the one who always had more important things to do. 'Or maybe it would be okay if I just called him Daddy," Superboy thought wistfully.

* * *

Martha snapped a quick picture of Clark losing the battle to get soap in Superboy's proximity yet again then dropped camera in her pocket. "I come baring toys and bubble bath," she declared.

"Ma, you're brilliant," Clark said.

"You take lots of pictures," Superboy observed as he watched the snowy white mountains of bubbles build up around the taps. There was something very appealing about those bubbles but he had a sneaking suspicion that they were just soap in disguise. From Clark's earlier effort at removing tomato sauce from his hair Superboy had learned that soap was a nasty stinging thing that attacked eyes and he wanted nothing to do with it.

"Well, if you're only going to be little for a bit I have to get all my baby pictures of you right away," Martha explained. "I have to add you to the family album."

Superboy looked puzzled

"I'll show you once you're out of the bath," Martha offered.

Superboy nodded.

"Clark, I brought down some of your old clothes from the attic for him to wear while his are in the wash. They're laid out in your room."

Some time later Clark lifted a markedly cleaner Superboy out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel. Superboy nestled easily in the crook of Clark's arm, fitting himself against Clark's side as Clark carried him.

As Clark helped Superboy to get dressed Superboy's cooperation became increasingly less enthusiastic. As he pulled the top over Superboy's head Clark felt like he was dressing a doll. The shirt settled into place and Clark saw there were tears streaming silently down the little boy's face. "What's wrong?"

"You don't want me," Superboy whispered as he tugged unhappily on the hem of the shirt Clark had dressed him in.

Clark stared at the boy in utter bewilderment for several second. Then it hit him. "No, oh no. I do want you." He picked Superboy up and cuddled him. "I'm not taking it away from you. It's just all your clothes are dirty. And my clothes from when I was little don't have the S-Shield, there wasn't a Superman then. I'm not taking it away, I promise."

Clark jogged downstairs, still carrying Superboy. "Ma, how close is his shirt to washed?"

"Clark, I barely put it in the machine five minutes ago." Martha stared, her son looked panic stricken, her grandson looked utterly miserable.

"You can have it back as soon as it's dry," Clark promised. "Why didn't I think to bring your overnight bag?"

"Oh!" A light bulb went on for Martha. "It's not the shirt you need." She ran up to the attic and came back with the baby blanket they'd found Clark wrapped in. She tucked it around Superboy's shoulders.

After a few moments Superboy noticed the bright red blanket with the S-Shield and hugged it to his chest, still sniffling.

* * *

Later that night most of the lights around the farm house had been turned off, leaving just a few reading lights on in the living room. It felt like the world beyond those puddle of light had ceased to exist, just leaving behind one warm cozy room.

Jonathan and Clark quietly discussed Clark's reduced list of names. Superboy sat in Clark's lap, the baby blanket still clutched tightly but he was leaning over Clark's arm to look at pictures albums with Martha.

He watched the progression of Clark growing up in the pictures with amazement. Occasionally he'd flip back to pictures of Clark as a small child or pictures of him as a teenager, then turn to stare at the grown Clark who was holding him. "You get bigger," Superboy observed.

Clark nodded absently.

"You will too," Martha said. "And not just when the spell making you five is undone. Actually, Clark? Isn't he normally about the age you were when your heat vision and flying started?"

"You couldn't always fly?" Superboy asked intently.

"Thank heavens no," Martha answered. "I can't imagine how I would have coped with a flying toddler! Clark didn't start flying until he was eighteen."

"Then! Then I'm not put together wrong! 'Cause I can't fly!" Superboy exclaimed excitedly "I'm sixteen! That's two less than eighteen!"

"I didn't know you thought that," Clark said guiltily. "No there's nothing wrong with you. You have the same powers I had when I was sixteen."

Martha and Jonathan exchanged a look that said, 'He's taking care of it now, no point in belaboring it.'

Martha and Superboy went back to looking through the albums. Martha's most recent volume was mostly newspaper clippings. Stories about Superman or ones that were written by Clark. When Martha turned to an empty page she brought out a stack of newly printed photos from the day's activities. Superboy gasped with astonishment as she added pictures of him to the album.

After Martha finished adding the new pictures of her grandson Superboy went and got another album off the shelf. When he opened it he looked at Martha in confusion. "No colors?"

"These are old pictures," Martha explained. "Cameras weren't as good when I was a little girl."

Superboy pointed to a picture of a tall man, "Who's that?"

"That's my father, your great grandfather, Conner Clark," Martha replied.

Superboy glanced at Clark, "They've got the same name, but his Clark comes last?"

Martha smiled. "That's it exactly. Clark was my maiden name, my family name before I married Jonathan. I was an only child and so was my father, and his father only had sisters. There wasn't anyone to carry on the Clark family name. I didn't want the name to vanish, so when we found Clark, we named him for my father."

Clark watched Superboy touch the pictures curiously. "Do you like the name Conner?" he asked.

Superboy nodded.

"So, that will be you," Jonathan said. "Conner Kent. Conner for your great grandfather."

"Like Clark," Superboy interjected.

"And Kent because you're a part of this family," Jonathan finished.

"Now we just need a middle name," Martha commented.

Superboy remembered her tone when she called Clark, "Clark Jerome Kent." Middle names were clearly for when you were in trouble. "I don't need a middle name," he declared virtuously.

"I've been thinking. You should have a Kryptonian name," Clark said.

"Like Kal-El?" Superboy asked. "The Gegnomes told me you were Kal-El and Superman."

Clark nodded. "The 'El' part means the same thing as this," he pointed to the S-Shield on the baby-blanket. "When I was learning about my history I read about a member of my family called Kon-El. He was brave and a good person, because of that he was adopted into my family on Krypton. I'd like to call you Kon-El. Kon of the house of El. That means that even if your crest gets torn, or dirty and has to go in the wash, you still have the right to wear it. And that's not something that can be taken away from you."

"Really?"

"Really, Conner Kon-El Kent. You're part of my family and no one can take that away from you. Not even me."


	5. Buying Time

"I got your message," Superman said as he entered Mount Justice along with Superboy.

"Took you long enough," Batman replied.

"You didn't tell me he was Superman!" Superboy exclaimed.

"How do you know that I knew?" Batman asked.

The little boy looked alarmed.

"He knew," Superman assured Superboy with a sigh. "But please don't assume anyone else does." Then he turned to Batman. "And you, don't scare him."

Superboy noticed his friends and squirmed to be let down. "Can I tell them?" he asked excitedly.

"First name only," Clark instructed.

"And! And!"

"Yes," Clark allowed. "You can tell them your Kryptonian name."

"Guys! Guys!" Superboy shouted as he ran off. "I've got a name! It's Conner! Or Kon-El. And the S-Shield isn't an S for Superman, it's for my family's name on Krypton, it's part of my name. Superman showed me how to write my name in Kryptonian!"

"About time," Batman remarked quietly as the other members of Young Justice complimented Superboy on his new name.

"My parents are going to hate only getting to see him as a little kid for a few hours," Clark commented. Then added worriedly, "He's going to be angry again when he's restored to his proper age, isn't he?"

"Probably," Batman agreed.

After several minutes Superboy returned. "Robin said you all figured out how to make me back to normal?" he asked hesitantly.

"Zatara is waiting for us in the infirmary," Batman said. He turned to Superman, "It would be best if you waited here," he said.

Superman nodded reluctantly. Batman offered Superboy his hand.

"Did you hear? My name's Conner. Robin said he had a real name but he wasn't supposed to tell. Do you have a real name?" Superboy babbled. "Cause 'Matches' is NOT a real name."

"Robin and I keep our names secret so we don't get hurt. Without powers we need to be especially careful," Batman explained patiently as he led Superboy to the infirmary. "You need to be careful of your last name, to protect your grandparents."

"Um, Batman," Superboy said hesitantly. He started dragging his feet a little. "I sort of, might of talked to Lois. Even though you said not to."

"What did you tell her?" Batman asked sternly.

"That you said I wasn't supposed to talk to her," Superboy explained. Then he added. "She's nice. Really! I didn't want her to think I was being mean. She looked all sad when I wouldn't. And, and she's nice! Superman likes her. In Jimmy's pictures he doesn't look bothered at all that he's gotta catch her all the time."

"Oh I'm sure it doesn't bother him at all," Batman said sarcastically.

Superboy blinked at him in confusion.

Batman's comm-link activated. "I heard that," Clark said. "And Lois could do worse things to get my attention... Cat burglary for instance."

"Point," Batman said.

"What are you guys talking about?" Superboy asked.

"Girls who fall out of windows verse ones who climb in through them," Batman said.

Superboy looked even more puzzled but didn't ask because they were at the infirmary door. There was a man in a tuxedo and a top hat waiting for them there. Superboy ducked behind Batman's cape. In a small voice he asked "He's going to make me big again?"

Batman nodded.

"What if Superman doesn't like me again when I'm big?" Superboy worried.

"He's worried that you'll stop liking him," Batman said.

"But I always like him," Superboy said, confused at the notion that he could possibly dislike Superman or not want him. In a whisper he added "He's my daddy."

"He feels guilty about ignoring you before. That is why he thinks you might be angry with him. That is why he won't ignore you again," Batman assured the boy.

"But what if me being big makes him feel bad around me again?" Superboy protested. "He likes me now, he didn't like me then. What if he stops?"

"We still need to check that the spell can be undone," Batman said neutrally.

Superboy relaxed for a moment then tensed again. "You won't let me be on the team if I stay little," he fussed.

Batman sighed and guided Superboy to face Zatara. The magician held his hands over Superboy's head for several minutes while he muttered strange words under his breath.

When he stepped back he glanced at Batman questioningly. Batman lifted Superboy onto one of the exam tables then joined Zatara on the other side of the room. He subtly activated a white noise generator to prevent super-eves-dropping.

"I see what Circe meant, saying the Magic moved her to bespell him," Zatara said. "The class of spell is generally used to punish, but the essences of the magic is to bring the inner-self out and display it to the world."

"Beauty and the Beast."

"Precisely. Although the part of Superboy that was brought to the surface was a young child. The spell would be easy enough to unravel, it's powered by the child's need of acceptance. As that need has begun to be met the spell is weakened."

"And if you do nothing?" Batman asked.

"It will break on it's own in two weeks, a month at the outside," Zatara said.

"Leave it," Batman decided. "Let him have as much of a childhood as he can."

* * *

"The best course of action for us is simply to allow the spell to wear off on it's own," Batman stated. "Superman, I assume you'll be able to continue watching him for the next month?"

"Certainly," Clark said quickly. "I'll need some help to shore up his cover story. Other than that I can manage."

After Superman and Superboy had gone, when Batman and Robin were the only ones left in the control room at Mount Justice, Robin hopped up on top of the railing and balance-beamed along it. "You're such a liar," he said grinning.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't and you weren't trying to do something nice for Conner either," Robin said.

"If this increases his mental stability it is only to the world's benefit. He does have Superman's powers," Batman replied.

"Of course," Robin agreed factiously. He flipped into a handstand and grinned up at his mentor brilliantly. "It was nice though."

* * *

Superman touched down in his parent's backyard and set Superboy down. He straightened up the little boy's wind blown hair. "Conner, I have to go to work today. Especially today. We're going to expand on 'Matches' story about why you're staying with me."

" 'Cause my mom's your cousin and you're watching me," Superboy parroted, as he'd been coached to do.

"Right," Clark said. "But since you're going to be staying little for a few more weeks we've got to explain why my cousin... Who doesn't really exist, hasn't come back to get you. So you're going to stay with your grandparents today and play with Krypto. But I'm going to come back by six, I promise. Then I'll take you home and if you want I'll teach you more Kryptonian. Okay?"

Superboy pointed to six on his new watch. "You'll come back by then?" he checked. Clark nodded. "And I can call you if I want?"

"Yes, J'onn's on monitor duty and he knows to patch you through to me. I always have my JLA comm on, so you can get me at any time." And since it had a subharmonic vocalizer he could answer regardless of who he was with. "You going to be okay?"

Superboy nodded. "It's okay."

Clark walked him inside. "Ma, Conner's here. I'll be back by six at the latest." He crouched down by Superboy one last time. "I'll come back as soon as I can," he promised.

Superboy nodded solemnly.

As Clark flew away he heard Superboy wondering to himself "I'm Clark's cousin now. What'll I be when I'm big?"

Clark faltered in mid-air. 'It was one thing for Superman to have a clone. But how was Clark Kent supposed to explain a sixteen-year-old, who looked exactly like him, appearing out of no where?'

* * *

Matches looked hunted as he appeared in the Daily Planet's staff room. He slipped across the room, taking just long enough to garner a few curious stares. Then he grabbed Clark Kent by the lapels and shoved him against the nearest wall, making them the center of everyone's attention.

"For god's sake Kent, stop kicking ant-hills!" Matches exclaimed. "D' you wanna get us all killed? You may not like Joey, but Mae's your family."

"I just want to know where my cousin is," Clark said, frowning as he straightened his glasses. "Her son wants to know where his mother is."

"The kid's best off where he's at," Matches declared. "No one cares about the kid. But if he's in the middle of it not many 'd care if he got hurt."

"What have you and Joe dragged Mae into this time?" Clark demanded angrily.

"Trust me, the less you know the better. Just keep the kid. Mae knows to keep her head down and she'll come get him as soon as she can. The more attention you drawn the worse it gets."

While Matches and Clark were having their confrontation Lois quietly picked a spot mid-way between the elevator and the stairs.

"Leave it be and the dust 'll settle. It'll all work out for the best, trust me," Matches finished. He released Clark then made his exit.

Lois slid into the elevator after him a moment before the doors closed. "So, you're from Gotham, right?" she asked.

"Now why would you think that Toots?" Matches asked with absolutely no trace of a Gothamite's inflections in his thick Jersey-mainland accent.

"Oh, I don't know, but odds are..." Lois replied sarcastically, thinking about Superboy and which heroes would be likely to opt for an undercover operation.

"You're more guts than sense, ain't ya?" Matches remarked. "Sad in such a nice looking doll." For a moment his hand cupped Lois' ass. Without a second's thought she spun around and decked him.

Lois stared down at the man slumped on the elevator floor, blinking up at her, broken sunglasses dangling crookedly from on ear. "I guess not," she said to herself.

"Lois has a great right hook," Clark commented over his comm.

"Somewhat better than I expected." Batman admitted. "On the plus side, she's given up her theory about Batman and Matches Malone being the same person."

"The next time you want her to punch you," Clark said warningly. "Get more creative."

* * *

"He helped me change the oil in the old tractor," Jonathan informed his son as the grease-bedecked child threw himself eagerly into Clark's arms.

"You came back!" Conner exclaimed. He looked at his watch. "A quarter hour early!"

"I wanted to see you," Clark said. He looked to Jonathan and commented, "You enjoy returning him to me dirty too much."

"Grandparent's prerogative, son," Jonathan said.

"Moremomma was gonna teach me fractions, cause I kept asking when you were coming back, but I already knew 'em," Conner giggled. "I remember all the stuff the Gegnomes showed me even if I'm little. So she taught me algebra instead. They stick letters in math problems!"

"We think he has your edict memory," Jonathan said. "But his comprehension might be effected by the de-aging, or by having all his education downloaded, not natural that."

Clark realized that the grease and oil on Conner was quickly being transferred to him by the affectionate child. "Let's get you a bath," he suggested as he carried the boy inside.

"With bubbles and ducky?" Conner checked.

Clark nodded. "Ma?" he called, pausing at the kitchen door. "Mind if we stay for dinner? Pa let Conner get filthy, I don't want to fly him to the apartment until the grease is gone."

"Of course not dear," Martha said smiling to herself and resolving to tell Jonathan that his timing was brilliant.

After dinner Clark flew back to Metropolis with Conner. Once they were settled in for the evening Clark sat on the couch with Conner in his lap and started writing out the Kryptonian alphabet with the English phonetic equivalent beside it. Conner watched, fascinated.

Conner was working on copying it for himself with the doorbell squealed. "Remember, Lois doesn't know I'm Superman," Clark reminded Conner before answering the door. Conner made a zipping his lips motion.

"Lois, what brings you by?" Clark asked. He eyed the over-night bag hung over her shoulder curiously.

"The last time I left the kid with you, he was a wreck less than twelve hours later," Lois informed Clark. "Besides, you thought giving a five-year-old spaghetti was a good idea. Honestly I'm doing you a favor Clark." With that Lois invited herself in. "Hey kid!" she called. Conner waved. "Do you mind the couch?" she asked Clark. "I figured the kid and I can share the bed."

"I suppose that works," Clark forced himself not to laugh at the way Lois was taking over his life and apartment without the faintest hint of self-consciousness.

Conner scribbled something on his paper then showed it to Lois. Lois stared at the odd shapes and dots with a raised eye-brow.

"It's his name, Kon-El," Clark interpreted. "He's still not supposed to tell you anything."

"Someday I'm going to figure out why Batman thinks you're so much more trustworthy than I am," Lois remarked. She ruffled Conner's hair. "So you're Kon-El, huh? That's a cute name."

Conner crossed his arms and scowled at her.

"Okay? You're too grown-up to be cute?" Lois laughed. "You're in a much better mood than the last time I saw you."

Conner bounced up and down on the couch excitedly. He wanted to tell her about having Grandparents and Superdoggy and cows and chickens and haystacks and tractors and GREASE! and Moremomma's pies and being almost positive about Clark being his daddy. Since he wasn't supposed to talk to her, Conner threw himself on Clark and hugged him enthusiastically to show her why he was happy.

* * *

The next morning Clark went to wake Conner up to take him to the farm. While he actually did appreciate Lois' help, as having her in the apartment had made it easier to decide he could deal with the screams he'd over-heard during the night, but there was still the principal of being kicked out of his own bed to address. So he made a point of waking her up while he was waking Conner.

"Wha?" Lois grumbled sleepily.

"Gotta get Kon-El ready for the babysitters'," Clark explained cheerily.

"But! Moremomma and Moredaddy!" Conner protested loudly.

"Can't tell Lois I'm flying you to Smallville before work," Clark explained, pitching his voice too softly for Lois' ears.

"Too early," Lois groaned and pulled a pillow over her head.

"What do you mean? The sun's already up!" Clark asked, playing up the innocent farmboy... who'd been up at the crack of dawn for chores his entire life... And okay, alien who only needed about three hours of sleep a night anyway... Either way, not someone who minded seeing the sun rise.

Lois threw a pillow at him. Conner, deciding that looked like fun, did as well. Clark laughed at both of them, then picked Conner up and carried him to the bathroom. "Coffee's on," he called back to Lois over his shoulder.

"Morning person!" Lois grumbled as if it were a four-letter word. She pulled the blankets back over her head and went back to sleep.


	6. What's Important

"Lois, I can't work late," Clark protested. "You know why I can't."

"And I'm not asking you to," Lois said reasonably. "You go pick up Kon-El from the babysitter's and I'll come by once I've checked out this lead, then we can write up the story at your place."

"It's dangerous," Clark argued. "Lois, I can't just let you go on your own."

"Clark, I've been doing this longer than you have," Lois said calmly. "I am perfectly capable of checking out a lead on my own."

Clark considered the number of times he'd rescued Lois since he'd started working at the Daily Planet. He wondered if she'd been more cautious before Superman showed up or just luckier. He sighed. "Give me a minute. I need to call Kon and the babysitter, and try to explain this to them."

Clark found an open conference room and shut the door then called the farm. "Ma? I'm going to be running late tonight... I know Conner is going to be upset, but Lois is going to get herself shot if I don't keep her out of trouble... Could you put him on? I want to explain myself. I'll get there as soon as I can." He grimaced. "But don't keep dinner waiting."

"Conner, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to be late tonight. Lois is getting in trouble... No, she probably won't fall out of anything. When we're following leads we tend to get shot at instead."

"No, you can't help. I'd have to get to Smallville and then come back with you." Clark felt fairly clever at having avoided the 'too small, too easily hurt' discussion. It hadn't gone well the last time he'd tried it.

"I'll come get you as soon as I can," Clark promised. "Be good for your grandparents."

* * *

Clark's first clue that he'd out-smarted himself was a panicky call from his parents patched through his JLA comm.

"Clark! He's gone!" Martha exclaimed. "Conner wasn't happy about you being late. We thought he'd gone up to your room to sulk. But he's not there. We searched the whole farm, we can't find him anywhere."

Not for the first time, Clark wished that Lois knew his secret as he glanced across the car at her.

"I'll find him, Ma," he replied using the comm's subvocalizer. Then he switched channels. "J'Onn? You heard?"

"We are looking for him now," J'Onn replied.

"I will be too in just a minute," Clark said. He stole another glance at Lois then slid his glasses down his nose. He used X-Ray vision to pin-point Lois' fuel-line then a burst of heat vision to sever it. A few moments later the car stalled.

Lois cursed and popped the hood. The last time Clark had offered to help with car-trouble he'd gotten an earful about what an army brat could do on her own. This time he waited until Lois started poking around in the engine then quickly left.

He was on the outskirts of Metropolis, flying toward the farm when Clark spotted the white dog with a red cape and a small boy perched precariously on his back.

Clark sighed with relief as he swooped down and plucked Conner off of Krypto's back. "Thank God you're safe," he breathed.

Conner smiled broadly. "See, you didn't have to come get me!" He leaned over to pat Krypto. "Good Superdoggy! Superdoggy brought me to you. Now I can help!"

"Conner!" Clark exclaimed. "You can't just take off! Your grandparents were worried. I was worried. We didn't know where you were!"

"I wanted to help," Conner pouted.

"You could get hurt!" Clark protested. "Your powers aren't as strong as when you were a teenager. I had to kill Lois' car to come look for you."

Conner looked worried. "Is she going to be mad?"

"Not at us," Clark said. "As long as you don't tell her I killed the car."

Conner giggled at that.

"But we better get back as soon as I let everyone know you're alright," Clark continued. "Lois is resourceful, a dead car isn't going to stop her from getting into a fix for long."

"I can help!" Conner cheered.

"NO!" Clark stated firmly. "We're going to have to talk Lois into going home without investigating her lead. No getting shot at until you're at least..." Clark hesitated, even knowing Conner was bullet proof at sixteen didn't make the idea of him being shot at sound any better.

After calling off the search, Clark flew back to where he'd left Lois with Conner and changed back to Clark Kent's ill-fitted suit. Lois was still leaning over the engine. Clark grimaced at the muttered words echoing from under the hood.

"Lois?" Clark called. "Look who found us."

"Clark, I'm busy," Lois snapped. When she turned around and saw Superboy with Clark's hands over his ears, she blushed. "How'd you get here?" she asked.

Conner grinned and pointed to Krypto, who had followed them back to the car.

"Apparently, he didn't like it when I said I was going to be late," Clark said helplessly. "He came to help."

Conner nodded vigorously. Lois looked horrified. Then she sighed. "Well, I can't fix the car anyway, fuel-line's busted." She ruffled Conner's hair. "How about you help us thumb a ride home? Even I'm not checking that place out without a quick retreat handy." Or with a five-year-old in tow, went unspoken.

Clark's shoulders slumped in relief and he gave Lois an apologetic smile.

"We'll get to it first thing tomorrow," Lois decided.

* * *

"So! Do I make a convincing sanitation worker or what?" Lois asked.

Clark considered the possible answers and likely reactions, then silently handed Lois a hardhat.

Lois laughed. "Come on Smallville, times' a wasting and we don't want your little shadow showing up now do we?"

Clark cringed. "He swore he wouldn't leave the babysitters' on his own again," he said as he followed Lois into the waste processing center. "But... He remembers being sixteen, he remembers going out and fighting the bad guys."

"Only the spell has him thinking totally like the kid he looks to be, so he can't really grasp that he isn't capable right now," Lois said. "Which way kemosabe? You are the best guesser I've ever met. Someday you've got to tell me how that works."

Clark looked over the rims of his glasses, scanning the surrounding halls for anything incriminating with his X-Ray vision. Down the right pathway he picked out an unusual concentration of locks. After Lois' remark he knew it would probably be better for his disguise if he chose the wrong path, but there was a time element to these things and not just on account of worries about Conner trying to make his way to Metropolis on his own again, there were always those people who liked to shoot at inquisitive trespassers like them too. He led the way toward the high security area.

"Are they making any progress in getting Kon back to normal?" Lois asked. "Batman and..." She trailed off hopefully.

Clark declined to fill in the blank. "They found out that the spell will wear off on it's own," he said instead. He pointed to the locks and Lois set to picking them. "Even before the spell he wasn't really sixteen. He's newer to the world than he looks, a lot newer, but at the same time he is a teenager and so..."

"So he has a teenager's pride and hang-ups. Too uncool to run around and be amazed by everything he hasn't seen before," Lois realized. "Almost there. Someday I'm going to have to teach you to pick locks."

"Yeah," Clark sighed. "I didn't get that about him before. So now that they're certain that the spell will wear off, they're not trying to hurry it along."

"And once again, I wonder how it is you ended up being chosen to babysit," Lois remarked as the door swung open on a store room full of barrels labeled as coming from a LexCorp Genetic Engineering lab. "LexCorp... Who'd of guessed?" Lois deadpanned.

* * *

"Superman, is this boring you?" the giant robot asked with Lex Luthor's voice.

Clark glanced down the street to the clock on the bank sign. He had twelve minutes to finish the fight then fly to Kansas before he'd be late to pick-up Conner from his parents'. If he were late Conner might come looking for him. Conner might even manage to talk Krypto into bringing him to Metropolis again. Conner might get hurt. If he were late Conner would worry about whether he mattered to Clark. Conner was getting more confident, but Clark knew he still worried about being abandoned.

"Luthor, I really don't have time for this," Superman declared. He blasted the robot repeatedly with bursts of heat vision, welding it's joints solid. Then he left it in the middle of the square for the Science Police to clean up while he flew off.

"Not even a sanctimonious lecture?" Lex remarked as he watched Superman depart from a building several blocks away from the battle sight. "I think I might be insulted."

On the other side of the room Lex's bodyguards, Mercy and Grace watched their boss superstitiously out of the corner of their eyes. "So, what do you think's up with Big Blue?" Mercy whispered.

"Girlfriend maybe?" Grace whispered back.

"Naw, everything's situation normal with Lane," Mercy disagreed.

"New girl? One who expects more than an exclusive?"

Mercy shook her head, that didn't feel right. "If that S-Shield kid were around more, I'd think that was it. Or maybe it's something to do with the kid going completely off the grid a few weeks back."

"Could be, if the kid's got something wrong with him that would explain it," Grace said. "I mean, the last couple of weeks Blue's heart hasn't been in it. Oh he's still doing the job, but he's got somewhere else he'd rather be."

"Think we should tell the boss he hasn't been replaced as an arch-nemesis?" Mercy wondered aloud.

Grace shrugged. "Depends. Do you think it'll encourage him to get a new hobby or just make him more obsessed?"

* * *

When Clark arrived at the farm he found an anxious Conner waiting on the porch under Martha's watchful eye.

As soon as Conner saw Clark he launched himself in the air as high as he could. Clark swooped and caught the five-year-old missile before gravity could assert it's dominion again. "I! I saw!" Conner exclaimed excitably. "On the TV! I saw you fighting the meanie robot! I wanted! Wanted to help! But Moremomma wouldn't let me!"

Clark sighed with relief. "We've talked about this remember?" he said. "Your powers aren't as strong as when you were bigger. You could get hurt charging into fights."

"But! It was really big! And mean! And you were fighting it!" Conner protested. "I wanted to help! So you wouldn't get hurted either!"

Clark settled to the ground. He sat on the porch steps with Conner in his lap. "I know you worry," he said. "But remember why you can't fight right now?"

" 'Cause I'm too little," Conner replied sulkily.

"Right, and your powers are less now because of that. I'm all grown-up and I have years of experience fighting things like that. You don't have to worry."

" 'Kay," Conner agreed snuggling closer. Being held and feeling protected it was hard to remember why he'd been afraid. Conner smiled to himself, 'After all, his daddy was the best hero in the whole world. He wouldn't get hurt.'

When Conner relaxed Clark stood up, shifting the little boy to his hip. "Ma, we'd better get going," he said. "Lois said she was going to make dinner tonight."

"Did she now?" Martha asked with a gleam in her eye. "Well, you'd best be going in that case. You'll have to invite her out to the farm soon."

"As soon as I can find time to get here by car," Clark agreed.

* * *

Once they were back in Metropolis Clark landed in a quiet blind alley several blocks from his building and retrieved the spare set of clothing he kept stashed there. Once he was appropriately attired as Clark Kent, he and Conner took the last leg of their trip on foot.

Clark stopped in at a grocery just around the corner. When Conner saw what he was looking at the little boy gave him a reproving look. "Could have asked Moremomma for better pie."

"Better, but much harder to explain to Lois," Clark said. "Do you want to help me pick an ice cream flavor?"

When they got back to the apartment Lois was already home. She was scowling fiercely at the depths of Clark's pantry. "Smallville! Where are your pot holders?" she demanded as soon as they walked through the door.

"Er, well, mostly I just use a dish towel," Clark lied.

"Bachelors," Lois sighed. "Well, at least get me a clean towel. The macaroni's almost ready to drain and I've got everything chopped for the stir fry."

"We brought desert," Clark said as he procured the towel. Conner took the ice cream out of the bag and showed it to Lois proudly. It was blue and had gummy bears in it. He'd never seen something so brightly rainbowed before but anything that colorful had to be good.

"Looks yummy!" Lois said. "We better not let it melt." She lifted Conner up so he could put the ice cream in the refrigerator.

Clark took Conner from her and sat him on his shoulders to keep Conner out from underfoot then took over the stir fry while Lois mixed cheese, milk and bits of bacon into the macaroni.

Several minutes later Clark caught himself a moment before grabbing the hot frying pan with his bare hands. 'Getting too easy to relax and let my guard down with Lois,' he thought.

When the stir fry was finished, Clark held the pan while Lois leaned around him to scrape it into the serving bowl. Conner jumped off of Clark's shoulders on to the counter. He leaned over the side and pulled open the silverware drawer and counted out the utensils for the three of them, then stood on the counter to reach the shelf with the plates. "Oh no," Clark protested as Conner prepared to jump down with plates, forks and knives in hand.

"Helping!" Conner protested.

"Hand 'em over," Lois said. She took the stuff to the table while Clark lifted Conner down. "Now you can help," Lois said when Clark set Conner in the booster seat that had been acquired in the weeks since Superboy had been de-aged.

Conner stood in his chair and leaned over the table to put a plate and silverware at everyone's place while Lois and Clark brought the food over.

After dinner Clark did the dishes while Conner sat on the counter and dried then handed them off to Lois to put away. "Time to get back to work," Lois said when the last dish was up.

Lois and Clark spread their notes from the last few weeks' investigation across the coffee table. Lois curled up in the corner of the couch with her laptop. "I'll type, you can proofread," she informed Clark.

While they worked Conner claimed Clark's corner desk for his own and diligently copied out the Kryptonian alphabet several times.

"We might have become suspicious due to the mutilated strays, but the story starts with the pay-off to get the sanitation contract," Clark pointed out.

"Bribes are humdrum and the company's only a LexCorp subsidiary," Lois declared. "Plus Jimmy's got that great shot of Superman capturing our poor, demented, mutated trashman, the victim of LexCorp using the sanitation contract to cover illegally disposing of mutagenic waste from their genetics labs. That guy should be our lead: Crazy, super-strong feral guy running around the sewers ripping stray animals to shreds then up and dying a few days after he's put in jail is a much better hook than corporate pay-offs."

"We never conclusively proved the LexCorp waste caused the sanitation engineer's mutation," Clark warned.

"What do you call that robot destroying the body before it could be autopsied?" Lois demanded.

"Something Lex can weasel out of," Clark answered. "Superman recognized his voice from the robot's speaker system but it won't hold up in court. Lex will claim that voice recognition is questionable at best, that Superman is biased against him and that with the amount of public speaking he does it would be simple for someone to get a voice sample and use it to frame him. He's done it before."

Conner felt warm and peaceful as the air of comfortable familiarity between Lois and Clark extended to fill the room. He only felt a little left out when he and Clark heard a disturbance several blocks away and Clark had to make an excuse to disappear for about fifteen minutes.

"Kon, it's almost your bed-time," Clark said when he got back from putting an end to the shooting noise. "Why don't you get your book?"

Conner grinned and retrieved 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer' from the bookshelf. Then he curled up in Clark's lap to listen and read along. He could still remember how to read for himself, but that didn't make listening to Clark's voice any less nice.

Once they finished the chapter Clark put the bookmark back in it's place.

"One more chapter Daddy?" Conner whined. Then he froze, he hadn't meant for that last word to sneak out.

"It's bedtime," Clark said. "Come on, I'll tuck you in. The story will still be there tomorrow night."

Conner let himself be put to bed without further protest. The story would still be there tomorrow, and so would Clark, his daddy.

"Well, I'd better head back to my place tonight," Lois declared when she and Clark finished off their article. "It's been an age since I was home long enough to wash clothes."

Clark nodded.

"I've been thinking," Lois continued. "Tomorrow, why don't you and Kon stay at my place... I actually have a spare bedroom. And as much fun as I've been having, making you sleep on the couch, I think you've done your penance. You were being an idiot about Kon at first, but you stopped and he's happy now."

"Kon got dropped on me like a bomb," Clark sighed. "At first I just didn't know what to think, it was so unexpected. Then I tried not thinking about him at all. I was procrastinating and ignoring that I wasn't the only person being affected. Until some good friends provided a much needed kick in the pants... Thanks."

Lois chuckled. "At least you admit it. Oh, by the way, I've been wondering: How old were you when the Kents adopted you?"

Clark frowned at her. "Is there a reason you're digging into my past? Or is it just general nosiness?"

"Less digging, more fishing." Lois shrugged apologetically.

Clark sighed. "And I just confirmed I was adopted didn't I? It's not really not a big secret, I was about three, almost anyone in Smallville would know that. But Lois, if you want to know something just ask, okay? Don't treat me like a story."

"Ingrained habit," Lois admitted. "Clark, you know you're not a story to me."

* * *

Lois groaned at the insistent ringing sound which was cruelly dragging from the land of nod and fumbled for the snooze button on her alarm while pulling her pillow over her head. When neither the pillow nor the snooze button worked it occurred to her that it was her phone ringing and not the alarm clock disturbing her sleep.

She grimaced and rolled out of bed. "Who ever it is better have a damn good reason for calling at this god-awful hour," she muttered. When her feet hit the icy floor she shivered and reached for her bathrobe. "And what the hell happened to the heat?"

The phone stopped ringing just before her answering machine would have picked-up. A few moments later it started up again. Whoever it was knew she wasn't a morning person. Lois glared darkly and muttered dire threats under her breath as she stumbled out of her bedroom.

There was a healthy breeze whipping through the living room, coming from a broken window. 'Well, that explains where the heat went.' Lois thought. Then she noticed the unhappy lump of teenager curled up beneath the window. She forgot about the phone.

"Kid, you're back to normal."

Superboy nodded but didn't look at her or stop hugging his knees to his chest. To Lois he looked exactly like he had the morning Superman had dropped him off while he dealt with the rampaging monster of the week the day after the boy had been de-aged.

In the background Lois' voice mail message began playing.

"Kon, what happened?" Lois asked as she crouched beside him.

"Lois! Kon's missing!" Clark's voice exclaimed in a near panic from the answering machine. "I woke up this morning and he was gone! Krypto's accounted for. He's not with his friends! If you can think of anywhere I should look... Anyway, tell Perry I won't be in today."

"I woke up and I was sixteen again," Conner said and Lois didn't know how someone who could smash through concrete walls could sound so much like spun glass. "Before all this, when he'd turn away, I'd tell myself it didn't matter, that I didn't care." Conner looked at her with stark terror in his eyes. "What if he stops liking me again?"

"Oh kiddo." Lois wrapped an arm around Conner's shoulders. "It's going to be okay," she promised. Then she raised her voice. "Clark! Get here now! I found him."

Conner tensed, ready to run. Lois held on to him more tightly. "It's going to be okay. Trust me. Trust him. It's going to be okay."

Then Superman was there. "Conner, you're alright," his shoulders slumped with relief. "You can't just take off like that! You were gone! I didn't know what happened to you!"

"The spell wore off," Conner explained. "I thought- I wasn't sure-"

"And no matter how many times I've said it, you don't have much reason to believe I wouldn't reject you again," Superman sighed. He picked Conner up and set him on his feet then hugged him. "I'm sorry about before. I was an idiot, I shouldn't have ignored you. You're still Kon-El, still my family regardless of wether you're five or sixteen. Will you let me prove that to you?"

Conner nodded and smiled tentatively. He thought for moment then remembered the first time Clark had implied that there relationship would continue after the spell was gone. He asked, "You said you'd explain about M'Gann once I was my right age?"

* * *

"So, how'd it go?" Lois asked.

"The spell's gone, I've been assured we don't have to worry about any strange after-effects," Clark said. "Kon's friends decided I'd been monopolizing him this last month and declared that he's theirs for the rest of the weekend. I can expect to get him back at 10:00PM Sunday night."

"That's great," Lois said, "But I was actually asking if you survived 'The Talk'."

Clark gave her a dirty look, "Yes, we managed." Clark hesitated for a moment. "This afternoon was that more fishing?" he asked warily.

"No, just the fastest way of getting a response," Lois replied. "Your 'disguise' sucks, but it works because of two incontrovertible and apparently irreconcilable facts: Clark Kent is from Smallville, Kansas. Superman is from the planet Krypton. Once I'd resolved that contradiction the blinders fell off. And then you went and asked me not to pry. I didn't know how to tell you I'd already figured it out."

Lois shook her head and laughed. "All the times I've interviewed your alternate identity and you didn't even have to lie. Never once did I bother to asked how long you'd been on Earth. We all just assumed that someone like Superman couldn't go unnoticed long… Even when it's blatantly obvious that you were familiar with US cultural norms. Blame it on Americanitis, we think everyone else is exactly like us, so we never thought to question an alien with an American Heartland upbringing."

"So what happens now?" Clark asked tensely.

Lois glared at him. "Have a little faith. I told you I wouldn't do anything to hurt Superman, and that was before I knew he was you, my partner and one of my closest friends. The public's right to know doesn't top that. My turn, what happens with the kid?"

"First off, I'm going to need to find a larger apartment..."

* * *

Clark glanced up at the Daily Planet building nervously. Bruce had taken care of all the paperwork needed to make Conner Kent an official resident of Metropolis. Lois had tried to poke holes in their cover story, tracing the paper trail and quizzing Conner she'd deemed it solid enough to withstand scrutiny.

He glanced over at Conner then caught the teenager's wrist, preventing him from rubbing at his new contact lens. Lois had nixed glasses, saying they emphasized the mirror-image quality between the two of them too much. The lack of glasses left Conner's face with the appearance of a slightly different shape from Clark's while still turning his sapphire blue eyes an unremarkable hazel.

"You ready?" Clark asked, not feeling terribly ready himself.

Conner nodded. "I remember: Don't volunteer information unless someone asks. If they do ask, my mom was Lori Lemaris. She knew you from a summer camp while you were in high school. She recently died of cancer and I don't like to talk about it. She never told me anything about you until just before she died."

"Good job," Clark said, repressing a wince. He could deal with people's reactions to his having an illegitimate teenage son, Conner couldn't deal with being unwanted. Besides Lois and his parents knew the real story. "Just remember, only answer the question they ask, don't supply the whole story without making them prompt you for it."

"I remember," Conner reiterated. "And I won't call anyone by name until after they introduce themselves. And I won't stick my fingers into anyone's pencil sharpener or put another gash in the floor. And if we hear any trouble I will follow your lead and not give away our identities."

"I've mentioned this a few times?" Clark asked with chagrin.

"About five times... since we left the apartment," Conner said. "I lost count of how many since breakfast."

"Then I suppose we should just go in."

Several minutes later, once most of the Daily Planet's staff was trying to subtly stare at Clark's guest. Clark put his hand on Conner's shoulder and glanced around the room, "Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to my son."


End file.
